About kneecaps
by ariades
Summary: The road to my house is paved with good intentions.


Title: About kneecaps

Description: Christmas in D.C.

Ratings/Spoilers: Nothing new in here, the piece is reaching back towards the 'Judas on a Pole' episode; so everyone should be safe. This one earns a mild K rating.

Disclaimer: Never have been, never will be.

Author's Note: This isn't important or special or anything like that - just kind of wrote it for myself. Sorry for only writing angst driven stories, it annoys me as much as it must annoy you. This story was just something I thought up to fill in the obvious skipping of Christmas in the show; there's no Sully in the one because he hadn't entered the equation yet. It's mostly internal, there are some romantic undertones at the end - but make of it what you will. I hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think.

A/N 2: I took out the 'charm' from the charm smile, because bredalot, it annoys me too. Also, because no one has picked up on it yet - the last line is derived from a quote from 'The Boneless Bride in the River'..."To you it's just a kneecap, to Dr. Brennan, it's the best part of a human being."

------------------------------------------------------

It had been an unusually warm winter.

Seeley Booth had stopped feeling seasons so vividly when he got his first real job, and, in turn, lost his summer, fall and winter vacations. But he was well aware of the mild winter by the disappointed grumblings of his five year old son, who, upon staring out the window of his apartment forlornly, would press his nose to the window, blowing steam, and tell his father that all he wanted for Christmas this year, was a bit of snow.

Throwing his keys on the table and shrugging out of his long overcoat, his gaze shifts out the window, drawn to the colorful hues illuminating from apartments across the street. With a flick of a switch, the room is filled with the soft glow of countless strings of lights, playing off shiny globes and messy ornaments, handcrafted with glue, bright construction paper, and varying noodles. He smiles softly at the sight, but his heart isn't in it.

Sitting at the table by the window, he leans against the wall and watches cars drive by, nursing a beer and picking at a less then appetizing microwave dinner. The cordless phone sits discarded on the edge of the table, his right ear still ringing from the excited chatter of his boy, who was enjoying a white winter in Colorado. The quiet sounds of 'A Christmas Carol' pipe through the room as he finishes the bottle in one long drink. His head hits the back of the wall with a soft sigh as he fights introspection.

"Thinking like that is just going to get you in..." He stops his one-sided conversation at the sight of a small silver car. At first he thinks it must be coincidence, but after it circles by three more times, he knows it's her. He can't bite back the smirk as the car slowly pulls into an open space, idles, and five minutes later a brunette emerges; carrying what appears to be a very heavy load.

She's at his doorstep, arms full and cheeks pink, lost under a pile of packages. She stumbles inside, vision hindered by a particularly large box, and Booth nearly falls over himself to help her with the load.

"Whoa, Merry Christmas Bones!" He says with a bright smile, helping her arrange the packages under the tree, aware of her silence. She's standing next to the douglas fir, looking as out of place as she feels, running one hand up and down the opposite arm. Brushing his hands off on his thighs, he steps away from the tree and takes in the sight, noticing her uncomfortable stance and stoic expression; the one she uses when she's feeling anything but confident.

"So are you vying for my position as alpha-male?" He jokes lightly, running a hand through his hair and smiling, reminding her of the ideal all-american male; white teeth, fine crafted physique and charm. Her feet shift and she lets out something that sounds like a sigh.

"Most of them are for Parker; I kind of went a little overboard on Christmas shopping," She explains quickly, opting to ignore his jest.

"Wow, so you're vying for my position as 'World's Greatest Dad instead,'" Her mouth opens in protest but he picks up before she can begin, "I know Bones, that's not actually a position - but you're going to make his year with all of these gifts." He says with an appreciative smile and he takes in the bright tree, overflowing with professionally wrapped presents of all sizes. "So how'd you find all this anyway?" Her smile wavered, then disappeared and he immediately regretted the question.

_The road to my house is paved with good intentions_.

"Well, actually - Russ had talked so much about the two little girls, that umm...he was looking after and Angela insisted on helping me shop early this years and...well I guess I over did it." She says, looking away and out the window, wringing her hands. "But don't worry - the games aren't gender specific or anything." Her suit jacket felt too tight, to restraining and she felt uncomfortable in her own skin.

"Stop looking at me like that." She orders in the blunt manner that he's come to associate with her and he uneasily smiles and motions for her to take a seat.

Ten minutes later they're sitting on his couch, warm mugs of coffee in their hands and an untouched fruit cake in front of them. She stirs absentmindedly, watching the colors swirl and enjoying the simple sound of the spoon colliding with the ceramic. He fingers the edge of the cup, trying to carefully choose his words. The situation is delicate and she seems to be on the edge - of what, he isn't exactly sure. His sets his drink on the coffee table with a sigh and softly puts his hand on her forearm, halting her movement.

"Bones, is everything ok?" He asks gently, shifting forward in an attempt to catch her gaze. She turns her head slightly, causing her hair to fall like a curtain. Her hand shakes as she removes the spoon from her drink, placing it in the saucer while dumbly nodding in affirmation.

"Temperance," he warns gently as he moves off of the couch to kneel in front of her, resting on hand on her knees while using the other to gently nudge her chin up. Her blue eyes are bright and brimmed with tears which she hastily brushes away in frustration.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here." She says quickly, scooting to the left and placing the mug on the table beside his.

"Whoa, whoa - slow down, tell me what's going on." He holds her on the couch, placing himself between her and the exit. She looks away, in shame or frustration, he can't tell, and he can feel her tense underneath him. She's shaking from the effort, trying to maintain control of herself or something within her. "Hey, it's me - whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I'm sorry; I had no where else to go," She says shakily before the tears come, she's pushing his hands away while trying to wipe the tears from her eyes but she can't stop them both at the same time.

"Don't fight me." He says as he pulls her into his embrace, gently shushing her as she grips the fabric of his shirt with her hands and lets out a sob against his chest. It's Christmas Eve; she's been orphaned all over again and his home is empty, a part of him wants to cry with her. The lights of the tree dance against the soft red hues of her hair, but she can't appreciate it. He places a kiss on the crown of her head as she slowly calms down, hiding her face against his shoulder as he traces slow circles along her back.

"I've ruined your shirt." She sniffles, pulling slightly back to examine the now wrinkled heather grey. He keeps his arms loosely around her waist, shrugging non-chalantly.

"I've got plenty of these," he smiles, looking down.

"It's a good thing that one of those presents is a new shirt." She says quietly and he laughs, pulling her closer to him.

"I thought you wrapped presents because they were supposed to be a surprise." She shrugged in his embrace and wiped her eyes self-conciously.

"Well, I'm new at this...I thought you were going to stop letting me hug you." She slowly disengages and reclaims her place on the couch, curled in a small ball.

"Yeah...about that," He trails off, taking a seat beside her, palms up in a gesture of surrender and a grin on his face. The clock chimes and they both sit, holding their breath and counting the hour.

"It's getting late, I know tomorrow morning you get Christmas with your boy. I should probably -"

"Parker's down in Colorado with Rebecca and her boyfriend." He doesn't elaborate, just leans forward, smile replaced by a faraway look and stiff shoulders. Another silence fell as he fidgeted with his drink and she played with the frayed edge of a sleeve; feeling guilty for not recognizing the same pain in him.

"I'm sorry Booth." He felt the soft pressure of her hand on his arm, reminiscent of her touch at the cemetery all those months ago. The simple gesture, all she could give him and all he could take, was enough to make the burn fade. He looked up at her with a smile, moving his arm up and around her shoulders.

"Have you ever seen 'Miracle of 34th Street', Bones?" He says while pulling her closer, holding the remote with his other hand and flipping through the channels.

"Would you be surprised if I said I hadn't?"

"Would you be surprised if I made you watch it?"

"No, no I wouldn't." She answers with a smile and sighs, leaning in to him and following his lead as he props his feet on the coffee table.

It's an hour later and her eyelashes are brushing against her cheek, her head and hand resting against his chest and her breathing soft and slow. The clock chimes midnight and he smiles, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Bones." He whispers and she nuzzles gently into him, softly mumbling in her sleep - something about kneecaps - and he knows it's perfect.


End file.
